


Only Dreaming

by 999Angel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/999Angel/pseuds/999Angel
Summary: Hermione has recurring dreams from encountering Jasper in a bookshop





	

She lay in her bed awake. Sitting up, she ran her fingers through her long hair. It was matted and soaked with sweat. Images from her dream floated to the surface of her mind. It was always the same dream. She stared at the dark room, eyes searching for another. With a sigh, she wadded up her blanket and squeezed it to her chest. She didn’t like being alone.

It wasn’t her fault, really. Why did her fiancé have to turn out to be such a toad? At least he showed his true nature before they were married. She could handle him flirting with waitresses to get better service. She could handle the way he would look at other women when they were out in public. But she could not handle finding him having sex with another. She had thrown her engagement ring at him, turned on her heel, and fled, tears streaming down her cheeks.

First the recurring dream, then the thoughts of her failed relationship. So far, this wasn’t turning out so well for her self-esteem. She wasn’t some helpless damsel in distress, she reminded herself firmly. Her emotions were still raw and frayed around the edges. It had only been a month since she discovered Ron and that Huffleslut. The dreams had started two weeks ago.

Hermione looked at the clock and groaned. Only an hour remained before she had to get up. “There’s no sense trying to get back to sleep now,” she huffed to herself. As she made her way to shower, she thought about the chance meeting that had led to the recurring dreams.

She was in muggle London at a bookshop. She had an armful of books and was reaching for one on the top shelf. A masculine arm entered her line of vision, “Allow me, ma’am,’ said a velvet American voice with a Southern twang. He deftly took the book she was reaching for and presented it to her. She stuttered a thank you, mesmerized by topaz eyes and marble skin.

Before she could stop herself, she said aloud, “Vampire.” Her mind was awhirl. Everything she had learned about vampires was racing through her thoughts. She could get to her wand easily. His eyes weren’t red, which meant he only drank animal blood. He was handsome, brutally so, his honey colored hair tousled atop his head, making him look more like a fashion model.

“Yes, Ma’am. How did you know, might I ask?” the vampire asked in a low voice. He was watching her, intrigued. Hermione wondered what he must be feeling from her. She wasn’t sure herself what she was feeling, only that she wasn’t afraid, just a bit apprehensive. And maybe there was a tiny bit of lust in there, too.

That velvety, Southern-twanged voice interrupted her thoughts. It took her a moment to puzzle out what he had said. “I learned about vampires in school. I’m a witch,” she stated flatly. Her brown eyes were still riveted on his. Hermione knew that statute of secrecy didn’t apply here. He was a dark creature, after all.

The vampire smiled his crooked, dimpled smile. “I am no threat to you or other humans. My family and I only drink the blood of animals.” He was studying her again, almost like he was judging her, and Hermione wondered who she was being compared to.

“I could tell by your eyes,” said Hermione quickly.

“You are a very smart witch,” the vampire drawled. “Care to take this conversation somewhere more private?”

“Certainly, I need to pay for these first,” she said quietly, juggling the books in her arms and reaching for her purse. She noticed he had two tomes on war. One was about the American Civil War and the other book was about World War Two.

“They’re on me, ma’am.” His grin was mesmerizing as he deftly took Hermione’s selections and made his way to the check-out counter. Once their items were totaled up and bagged, the vampire gestured for Hermione to lead the way.

Once outside he made his introduction. “Jasper Whitlock, ma’am. At your service.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. How terribly rude of me. Hermione Granger. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jasper.” Something about his crooked smile made her knees weak. “Thank you for buying my books.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Hermione expected him to hand over her bags of books, but Jasper seemed content to carry them for her.

Hermione had no idea what she was thinking when she led Jasper to her flat three blocks away from the bookstore. Perhaps she wanted the home field advantage. What was she thinking, bringing a gorgeous vampire to her home?

“This is my flat. Please excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” Hermione pulled out her wand and set the place to tidying up. Books re-shelved themselves, a basket of laundry folded itself and the items flew into the bedroom to put themselves into the dresser drawers. The few dishes in the sink began to wash then dry themselves. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?”

Jasper just stood there, staring in dumbfounded wonder. Hermione wondered if he’d ever even seen magic before.

More relaxed now than she had been when they’d first met in the bookstore, Hermione walked over to where Jasper was standing by the door. Reaching up, she put her index finger under his chin and gently pushed his mouth closed. “You’ll catch flies,” she told him cheekily.

“My apologies, ma’am. I’ve never seen anything like that in all my years.”

“Please, have a seat.” Hermione gestured towards the sofa. “I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t have any animal blood.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m not thirsty.” Hermione took a seat in the chair while Jasper sat on the sofa. She noticed that he waited to sit down until she was seated. He placed their purchases on the coffee table.

Crookshanks padded his way out of the bedroom. Wandering over to them, he paused to sniff and check out the stranger in his home. He appeared to like what he sensed, because he jumped up into Jasper’s lap and began purring loudly. Jasper looked to Hermione, at a complete loss. Animals usually fled from him as if they sensed he was a predator. Hermione gaped at her wayward familiar.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, embarrassed. Crookshanks, get down!”

“No, it’s all right,” Jasper said, beginning to stroke Crookshanks’ fur. Hermione watched them for a moment. It was nice seeing her pet like someone for a change. Crookshanks absolutely hated Ron, but adored Harry. Maybe that should have told her something. Crookshanks was part kneazle, after all.

“May I ask you a personal question?”

“Go right ahead, darlin’,” he replied instantly, still petting the cat in his lap.

“When were you turned?”

“1863.”

“That explains the book on the American Civil War,” she murmured.

“Ah, an observant one.” Jasper’s eyes were warm as they regarded her.

“I tend to notice things other people don’t,” Hermione replied, blushing lightly. “You said your family only feeds from animals. Don’t you mean your coven?”

Jasper shrugged. “I suppose they are my coven, but we are more like a family.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into your private business.”

“That’s all right, darlin’,” he said, still petting Crookshanks, who had taken up residence in his lap. “Have you always known you were a witch?”

“I got confirmation of it when I received my Hogwarts letter. I was eleven. I had done accidental magic before then but we always managed to explain it away. My parents are dentists. I’m what the magical world calls a Muggleborn. Muggles are people with no magic.”

They sat for a while in a comfortable silence. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock and Crookshanks’ purring. Finally, Crookshanks decided that it was time for him to eat, and he sauntered to the kitchen.

“I’ve never seen him so taken with anyone,” Hermione admitted.

“Usually animals steer clear of me. I love horses and riding them but I can’t get near one without it running away.”

“I love horses, too. My parents and I spent a holiday at a ranch once…” she trailed off. The silence became oppressive.

Jasper smiled at her before searching through the bags of books for the two he had selected earlier balancing them on his knee once he’d found them. He looked at Hermione longingly. “I really must be going, ma’am.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Jasper. Thank you again for purchasing my books.”

He stood and brushed cat hair from the front of his pants.

“Here, let me.” Hermione pulled her wand and with a quick Evanesco, the cat hair was gone. Jasper’s face shifted in surprise and then embarrassment, and Hermione frowned. The spell shouldn’t have hurt him. Then she noticed that he had an erection. Maybe magic felt different to vampires than it did to humans? She smiled at him, very carefully looking only at his face, politely ignoring his “little” problem.

“Thanks, darlin’,” Jasper drawled. He took a step toward the door before turning back to face her. “Hermione?”

“Yes?” she asked.

“May I kiss you goodbye?”

She smiled broadly and nodded her head. With vampire speed, he was at her side. He grinned his crooked, dimpled grin. She tilted her face toward him and closed her eyes. He chastely kissed her cheek. Then he was gone.

She dreamed the dream for the first time that night.

It was always the same. She was standing by her bedroom window looking out at the night sky. Strong, cold arms wrapped around her from behind, coming to rest well below her breasts. It was all very polite. Cold lips nipped at her ear. A masculine voice with a Southern drawl whispered to her.

“You look beautiful tonight, darlin’,” he crooned. “Good enough to eat.” Cold lips slid down her neck as her pulse quickened. He playfully nipped her neck before resuming his previous position with his arms around her waist. His waist and lower body was a respectable six inches away from her body.

He was toying with her and she was tired of this game of cat and mouse. There was such a thing as being too much of a gentleman. Boldly, Hermione reached behind her and grabbed his hips. She leaned forward a bit, deliberately pressing her pert little bottom firmly against his groin so that she could feel his manhood hardening. She bit her lower lip and concentrated on moving her arse in the most seductive way possible. She heard him groan and the grip of his arms around her tightened.

“You’re playin’ with fire, little one. Be careful or you’ll get burned.” His voice was tight with effort.

Smiling to herself, she once again pressed back into him. None too gently, he spun her around so she was facing him. He kissed her roughly, intensely. Cold lips mashed her lips against her teeth. One of his hands held the back of her head. His other arm pulled her closer. She tried to pull back from the bruising kiss, but his hand held her head firmly in place. This kiss gentled and his tongue teased its way past her lips. She had no idea how long he had been kissing her. It felt like an eternity. She was short of breath and getting light headed.

As he broke the kiss, she gasped for air. Panting, she stared up at him with lust-filled eyes. Yes, this was what she wanted. Cold arms scooped her up bridal style and placed her gently on the bed. “Lie still, darlin’.” He kissed her again, this time slowly, gently. The kiss grew heated and she pulled away, gasping. He kissed her check and peppered kisses down her jawline to her neck. A cold hand cupped her breast. He deftly opened the front of her silk dressing gown to find she was wearing nothing underneath. Cold hands against her heated skin, the contrast gave her pleasure.

Jasper sat beside her on the bed. Carefully, he pulled her onto his lap, helping her shed her dressing gown in the process. She snaked her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. His scent was intoxicating. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when kissed her. Her mind was at war. She had a million questions she needed the answers to, but her body told her brain to shove off and just feel. In the end, her body won.

With trembling hands, she unbuttoned his shirt. He casually shrugged his way out of it. Her eyes feasted on the perfection of his marble chest. She traced his muscles with her fingertips. He shivered at her touch. Circling his nipple with a fingertip elicited a moan.

“Let me take care of you, darlin’,” he drawled, gently pushing her away.

He eased her onto the bed so that she was lying on her back. She had no idea what to expect. Ron had been her only lover. Nothing she had experienced with him prepared her for what was about to happen.

Jasper very gently rubbed her feet, massaged them in slow, circular motions. “Relax, little darlin’.” Hermione could feel him sending her a wave of calm – one of the many vampire powers she’d read about – and it helped a little, but Hermione was so high strung it was a challenge even for Japer’s powers. He continued massaging her feet and ankles and worked his way up to her calves. Smoothly, he pushed her knees apart.

This was not what she had been expecting, but she had to admit that he was making her feel good. Better than good, actually. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to just feel. He was rubbing her thighs and she was getting wet. The room was permeated with the scent of her arousal as Jasper traced her lower lips with a finger. Finding the little nub, he began to apply gentle pressure and rub the small nub in circles.

Hermione felt her orgasm building inside her. That spring was being wound tighter and tighter, everything building to a crescendo. Jasper took his fingers away, leaving her feeling disappointed from the lack of touch. She was so busy feeling the loss of sensation that she didn’t realize that he had pulled her to the edge of the bed. He was kneeling before her with her legs over his shoulders. The first touch of his cold tongue made her gasp. When he began to write the alphabet with his tongue across her clitoris, she began to moan. When he got to the letter R, she was writhing, ready to explode. By the time he got to the letter W, she was pulling away, needing a break from all the sensations. He grabbed her hips and held her in place. Next came the Greek alphabet. Sensing that she was close, Jasper gradually inserted one finger into her willing channel. He added another and she clamped down on his fingers as she rode out her orgasm. It was the most intense thing she had ever felt.

It was at this point where she always woke up. She always woke up sweaty with matted hair. She always woke up feeling like her dream had just happened for real. Oh, how she missed him. The dimpled grin, the southern accent and the manners – these were the things she missed.

She thought about Jasper as she showered. She wondered why she hadn’t seen him again. He knew where she lived. He’d even gotten the Crookshanks’ seal of approval. She sighed. As she rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, it hit her. He’d kissed her cheek like he would an aunt or a little sister. She chided herself for her wanton thoughts and decided that she’d make another trip to the bookstore, find something to distract her from dwelling on topaz eyes and the hint of sharp fangs.

Later that day, she walked to her favorite book shop. She was browsing the shelves when she heard it – that familiar Southern drawl. “Hermione, you shouldn’t have kept me waiting so long.” The voice was behind her. She turned around to see him face to face.

“Pardon me,” she stammered.

“I’ve been coming here every day since we met hoping to see you again.” Jasper smiled, brilliant eyes full of wicked promises.

Hermione shivered. Perhaps, she mused, accepting his hand, her dream wouldn’t be just a dream for much longer.

 

THE END


End file.
